Page 20 of The Marriage Deal (Sunset Falls #1)

SALT IN THE WOUND

LILAH

Ican’t deny the man can cook. I also can’t deny he looks damn good doing it.

He ditched his worn leather cowboy hat at the front door, so he’s in dark jeans that hug his thighs and hips in a way I’ve never really noticed jeans hugging a man.

And the white T-shirt he wears is stretched tight over his broad chest and back, teasing a show of the muscles I just know are beneath.

He looks good, standing at the barbecue.

Good enough to dry my tongue, which is why I take a sip of my wine.

I’d cracked and traded the bottle of water for a glass of pinot gris from the backstock of Alder Wines.

It’s good, but everyone knows Alder Wines makes good wines.

The notes of crisp pear blended with just the right amount of spice gives me the refreshing bite I was looking for after that kiss.

I’d hoped to wash away the taste of Briggs on my tongue, but so far, the wine had failed me on that front.

I take another sip and move from the patio sectional where Briggs left me to go grill. The man has a whole-ass outdoor kitchen on his back deck. The thing is equipped with not only the grill, but a fridge, sink, and stretch of cabinets that honestly looks better than most people’s primary kitchen.

I can’t get over the splash of money this man has. When you’re not used to it, it sort of hits you straight in the face. Like a punch.

I lean a hip into the stone countertop beside him. Ignoring the flutter of warmth that leaks from some dark place inside me when he casts those green eyes on me, I say, “So, you cook.”

“I do.”

I dip my chin into my chest. “How are we doing this, Briggs?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I take another sip of wine. He watches me. I pretend I don’t notice. “I mean are we going to get to know each other? At least a little.”

“Of course. You’re wearing my ring on your finger. You’re to be my wife.”

“Fake wife,” I correct.

He doesn’t reply.

I pull in a breath and adjust my stance so the small of my back is leaning against the counter. We’re now facing opposite directions. It doesn’t feel any less intimate. “I just want to know how this is going to work.”

Briggs gives the roasted potatoes a gentle spin on the grill. They are perfectly crisped, and the veggies are perfectly grilled. He adds two massive steaks to the grill. The meat sizzles.

“We’re going to announce our engagement to the town as soon as possible.” He flashes me a wry grin. “I was thinking we’d do it tomorrow morning when I take you out for breakfast.”

There’s a lump in my throat. I swallow it down with another gulp of wine. “You’ve got it all planned.”

“After, because you can’t imagine being parted from me—” the man winks. “You’ll move yourself and your dog in.”

I can’t help my smile at the way he says dog. When I glance up to peek at him, I find he’s already watching me. My heart flips.

“And then?” My goodness, I’m breathless.

“And then we’ll start what we came together to do.”

“Which is?”

He raises a brow. “Easing the town into the construction of Fire Falls Ranch and Resort and Fire Falls Estates. With you, a face everyone trusts and adores, as the face of change.”

“What about us?” The words feel stuck in my throat somehow. Still, they fall between us. Tumble. Splat. Absolutely zero decorum. I avert my gaze, but from the corner of my eye I watch him.

Briggs flips the steaks. “We’ll be what husband and wife are in public. Loving, tender, and supportive.”

Good heavens, why can’t I catch my breath? “In private?”

“In private we’ll be friends. You’ll have your bedroom and I’ll have mine, as requested.” He shoots me a smile I think he means to be easy, but all I feel inside is a tizzy of nerves I try hard to hide. “Figure we’ll share meals and conversation like roommates do.”

“Like friends.”

“Yes.” Briggs nods. “Like friends.”

I bring my wine to my lips but do little more than wet my lip. Thoughts swirl in my mind one after another. Complications and emotions ride waves of possibilities that make me feel dizzy and unsettled.

That kiss had felt anything but friendly.

Briggs plates the steaks, veggies, and potatoes. He hands me my plate. I follow him to the table. I consider taking the seat opposite him at the six-seater outdoor patio set but decide instead to lower into the chair to his right, adjacent.

“This smells delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m not the greatest cook,” I warn, popping a grilled pepper into my mouth. It’s decadently savory. “But I can bake.”

He throws me a wry grin. “Tell me you can whip together a mean peach cobbler.”

“The meanest.” I feel a little lighter. A little bolder. “But wait until you taste my cherry pie.”

His green eyes darken even as something sparks inside them. My own insides twist into a nest of knots at the flash of hunger that deepens his voice. His eyes dip down to my mouth before drifting back to my own eyes. “You’re going to make me cherry pie?”

Why is it suddenly hard to swallow?

“Um…” I do manage to swallow, but nearly choke on my tongue in the process. I cough, clear my throat and shoot a glare at the wry grin he’s now giving me. “If you want cherry pie, I’ll make you cherry pie.”

“I want.”

Good lord this is not going to go well. I’m a fool if I think I’ll come out of this marriage unscathed.

“Ahem.” I clear my throat again. “Tell me more about how this is going to work.”

Briggs shrugs, but there’s amusement in his eyes. “I figure we’ll figure it out as we go.”

“Ah.” I cut into my steak. It’s perfectly cooked. Red and juicy without being raw. I slide it into my mouth and this time there is no restraining the moan. “Oh, my goodness, this is good.”

There is heat in his eyes. Literal. Heat.

Briggs says nothing as he cuts into his own steak.

I chew, swallow, and ask, “Are we free to see other people?”

The man freezes. Every single part of him. Stone stiff. He asks low and with a hint of danger that has every single sense I possess on alert, “Is there someone you wish to see?”

My tongue is dry again. I force out, “Not particularly.”

“Why do you ask, then?”

“Just making sure I’ve got the ground rules down. And—”

“And?” Briggs pushes when I pause.

I shrug. “And that kiss doesn’t say you’re the kind of man who goes long without—” I laugh, but it’s a nervous filler kind of laugh. “You know.”

“Sex?”

My face is on fire. I bet I’d glow under the night sky like a beacon for the creatures of space.

I say as calmly as I can, “Yes. Sex.”

For the love of all that is holy, I’m a twenty-seven-year-old woman who’s had her fair share of sex. Why do I feel like a blushing virgin fumbling over it now?

Briggs slices another piece of his steak.

He pops it into his mouth and chews. He swallows, says, “I’m not the man you think I am, Lilah.

” My eyes flash up to his at the seriousness in his tone only to find that he’s already looking at me.

Into me. “I don’t seek out partners purely to fill sexual need.

I’m perfectly capable of handling my own needs if and when they arise. ”

I think my heart is going to mine itself straight out of my chest, it’s beating so hard at the cage. “You don’t do one-night stands?”

“No.”

“Casual hookups with someone you know and trust?” I probe.

“No.” He cuts another slice of steak.

I frown. “How can that be?”

His eyes connect with mine again. “Not all men are in it purely for sex. I’ve never been that guy.”

Is my jaw on the table? If Google is accurate, the man is a billionaire. How hasn’t he caved to the ocean of women who’ve tossed themselves at him in the hopes he’ll be their big catch?

As I open my mouth to speak, an unhinged, slightly nervous giggle escapes. I snap my mouth closed and wash the rest of the giggle down with a gulp of wine all while he watches. Then I say with just a tad more decorum, “I’m confused.”

“How so?”

“I just don’t know how a man who doesn’t engage in sex is capable of kissing the way you kiss.”

“How do I kiss?”

“How is that the only piece of my statement you took?”

“It’s the only piece I care about, currently.”

Yeah, I’m a beacon for whatever extraterrestrials are up there. I tip my head back and send up a thought, beam me up, buttercup.

When I dare a look at Briggs again, it’s to find that he’s waiting. Patiently.

I groan. “You kiss like you’ve got experience, okay?”

“I do.”

“But you said—”

“Just because I don’t engage in casual sex doesn’t mean I haven’t had sex or relationships. I have.”

Don’t do it, Lilah. It’s none of your business. None of your… “You must have a lot of exes.”

I freaking did it.

“Two long-term. One that didn’t last as long.”

My eyes bulge. “Three? You’ve been with three women?”

“Four. My first was,” he cocks a grin. “She was a friend, and it was an experience.”

“Wow.”

Briggs sits back in his chair, his eyes settled on me. “What’s your number?” Before I can refuse, he says, “You interrogated mine out of me, it’s only fair.”

“I didn’t interrogate anything out of you.” He raises a single brow. I huff a sigh. “Oh, fine. Five. Happy?”

“Not particularly.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not opposed to casual sex, in the right circumstance.”

“What’s the right circumstance?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never experienced it. I just know I don’t judge.”

Briggs laughs. “So, each of your five was serious?”

“They all had potential to be serious. But none ever really hit the mark.”

“I can relate.”

I feel my nose scrunch. Briggs watches. “How long is this marriage supposed to last?”

“I think it’ll be around a year, a year and a half.”

“A year and a half?” Yep. I just screeched. “And we’re going to abstain from sex the whole time?”

Briggs pins me with those green eyes. They feel heavy and hot on my skin. He says darkly, “You’re the one who said you wouldn’t sleep with me. You’re the one who took sex off the table, Lilah.”

My mouth pops open again. “It was on the table for you?”

Briggs pushes away from the table to move closer. He feels taller than usual as he leans over me, and that fire that’s smouldered in my core since his kiss erupts in a full firestorm inside me when he catches my chin between thumb and finger, forcing my eyes to his.

Breath lodges in my lungs as he rumbles, “You’re to be my wife, little lunatic. Loyalty and fidelity mean something to me. If anyone outside of you is seeing to your needs, it’ll be me. Do you understand?”

“This is fake, Briggs. It’s a business deal.” My words hardly sound more than a whisper, but we both know it’s a dare. A dare to let this be more than it is.

A dare he doesn’t meet.

“This is a business deal, yes. But this marriage will be very real, Lilah. Legal.” He doesn’t remove his eyes from mine or his fingers from my chin. “If you can’t give me monogamy, tell me now.”

“If I can’t?”

“Then this is over.”

Why do those words spark fear inside me? Gosh, I should let it be over. Should protect my heart.

Briggs watches the emotions play behind my eyes. He tells me, “I’m giving you the option to walk away now, Lilah. Your debts are paid, consider that a gift.”

“A gift?”

“I should have made the terms clear when I proposed the deal. I didn’t. That’s on me, but before we proceed, I need to know you can give me what I require.”

“You’d just let me walk away from the deal; all debts paid?”

He nods once. “Yes.”

I should take it and run.

I frown. “That’s not right.”

“Lilah.” My name sounds like a warning on his tongue.

My heart doesn’t heed it, because I say, “I’m in. I can and will be the picture of monogamy. But I won’t sleep with you.”

His expression doesn’t change as he gives me another nod. “Very well.”

He releases me, moves back to his chair and sits.

I don’t know how he can be so unaffected when I’m sitting here struggling to breathe under the weight of the man’s intensity. My goodness.

I blurt, “You don’t want to know why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why I won’t sleep with you?”

“I figure you have your reasons.” His disinterest is salt in the wound.

“I do.” I force indifference of my own into my words. “But you’re not curious?”

His eyes flick up to mine. “Do you wish to share, Lilah?”

I want to scream in frustration. The way he turns things around on me like that—it’s enough to spin anyone’s head right around. As it is, the man has me spinning like a top.

Biting into my bottom lip to keep my tongue from running. I mutter, “No.”

We finish our meal in silence.

Well, external silence, that is. Inside, I’m screaming curses at the man while wondering if there’s witchy magic buried somewhere in my lineage that I can pull from and aim his way.

The man is positively, absolutely, infuriatingly…well, infuriating!